Three's Crying
by Caia Caecilia
Summary: Jace Corso catches up with Three and One, non-con


Title : Three's Crying

Author : Caia Caecilia

Rating : Adult

Warnings : Non-con

Characters : One/Jace Corso, Three

Disclaimer : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

 **Three's Crying**

Pain.

Pain.

Stabbing pain.

Over and over.

On and on.

Sensation was returning and with it the pain. He didn't like the pain, wanted to shut it out, feel something else. The cover he lay on was rough against his back, his skin itched and crawled. His neck hurt, stretched back too far, his head feeling heavy.

Pain again.

Focus on something else. He opened his eyes, blinking against the light. Blurs and blobs of colour making no sense. Then slowly forming shapes, defining themselves into objects, defining themselves into a person.

Everything was upside down. The room brown and dingy, metal walls and metal floor. The person was upside down too, sitting in a chair, watching as he was hurt.

"Help me." He wanted to say, but his mouth wouldn't form the words that he shouted in his mind. His mouth dry, lips that wouldn't open.

As he focused on the sitter he noticed that the man was bound to the chair, unable to get up, unable to move, unable to help him. A strip of dirty material tied across his mouth gagging him. He looked at the man's face and something inside of him told him he knew this person. He knew the planes and contours of the man's face, and as he looked at him a series of images, jumbled memories, flashed through his mind. They were all of the tied up man's face, sometimes he was laughing, or smiling, other times smirking, even sneering or sad. He saw the man's face so sad and he'd known that he'd been upset by that, he'd felt responsible somehow and it had hurt him, it had hurt him to make the man sad.

The man was focused on him. Focused on his face. Looking into the man's eyes he saw that sadness there again and he knew it was, once again, his fault. It was not just sadness he saw, but tears. The man's eyes glistened and large tears rolled silently down his cheeks, wetting the gag below. Fear sparked through him, he knew this man didn't cry, Three didn't cry. Three, that was his name, and Three didn't cry. Whatever he'd done to upset Three must be so bad if it had made him cry.

Suddenly, the rhythm of the stabbing pain in his body changed, it got faster and deeper. He squeezed his eyes tight shut against it and then it stopped.

The respite didn't last long and his eyes snapped open again when he felt a hand grab his left shoulder and another grab his hair and pull him up. He realised he had been lying on his back across a bed, his head hanging off the side which was why the world had been upside down. Now as he was forcibly pulled upright he felt dizzy and had to gulp down the urge to be sick.

A new face came into his line of sight, also familiar, leering at him, laughing. He felt confusion when he realised it was him. The face that was laughing at him, the face that had hurt him so badly, was his.

Closing his eyes memories, recent memories, jumbled through his head. Being with Three, feeling annoyed because Three was teasing him, then surrounded by a strange group of men, but one of them had looked like him, so sudden there was no chance to fight back, turning to see Three fall to the ground as he was hit from behind, then feeling a sharp sting in his neck and a warm rush of drugs as his legs gave out and he too fell to the ground.

The person who had his hair clutched in their hand roughly shook his head and he opened his eyes and looked up in confusion at his own face. The man who looked like him ignored him now and instead looked passed him towards Three.

"Did you enjoy the show? I know I had fun….What, nothing to say." He laughed, before continuing. "Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it, bet you'll be wanking over this for months to come. What about our friend here though, huh? I don't think he's having as much fun as us.

I'm so glad you both got away the last time we met. I was just going to kill you both, but this has been so much more enjoyable. Just think of our imposter friend here. Every time he looks in a mirror he'll see his rapist staring back at him. How long do you think it'll be before he walks into an airlock and spaces himself?

Oh, look at that, think I'm ready for round two. A change of position is in order I believe."

The face that was his leaned in close again, smiling, eyes empty and cold. He was turned over onto his stomach and before his head was pushed down into the bed he looked at Three's anguished face again, he looked at the tears again.

The pain began, worse than before. Sharper, harder, cutting through him, tearing him apart. The dizziness returned and his head spun, his ears buzzing. Through it all, as if from a long way off he heard a voice screaming, screaming in pain. Every time the screamer took a breath he heard someone else's muffled sobbing and the only thought in his head as he felt something deep inside his body tear apart was,

"Three's crying, Three's crying, Three's crying…"


End file.
